His progress, and the progress of thousands of other researchers in biology, must have been watched. And when he made his discovery, they had been ready.
The hearses stopped, and somber-faced, respectable-looking men in black suits and pearl-gray neckties poured out and seized him. The briefcase was yanked out of his hand. He felt the prick of a needle in his shoulder. Then, with no transitional dizziness, he passed out.
He came to sitting in an armchair. There were armed men on either side of him. In front of him stood a small, plump, undistinguished-looking man in sedate clothing.
"My name is Mr. Bennet," the plump man said. "I wish to beg your forgiveness, Mr. Dennison, for the violence to which you were subjected. We found out about your invention only at the last moment and therefore had to improvise. The bullets were meant only to frighten and delay you. Murder was not our intention."
"You merely wanted to steal my discovery," Dennison said.
"Not at all," Mr. Bennet told him. "The secret of immortality has been in our possession for quite some time."
"I see. Then you want to keep immortality from the public in order to safeguard your damned undertaking business!"
"Isn't that rather a naive view?" Mr. Bennet asked, smiling. "As it happens, my associates and I are not undertakers. We took on the disguise in order to present an understandable motive if our plan to capture you had misfired. In that event, others would have believed exactly—and only—what you thought: that our purpose was to safeguard our business."
Dennison frowned and watchfully waited.